


it was a sin

by bearer_of_light



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-09-20 07:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17018700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearer_of_light/pseuds/bearer_of_light
Summary: A story about two friends once too scared to admit how they felt, drifted apart and reunited after a few years, only to find that nothing and everything is as it was. With a couple of bumps, twists and turns down the road.





	1. Chapter 1

December was one of those months you either love, hate or learn to tolerate. Bright lights instead of street lights, cookies that reminded you of warmth that you’ve felt only once or twice in your life combined with the fire to bring the warmth to your skin after your heart got to the low enough temperature. And of course, above all, endless streams of happy people living their seemingly happy lives with the exception of those who never learned how to show the happy version of an unknown life. Clarke sometimes envied those who walked alone, hurriedly without thinking about Santas hanging off of buildings and stopping to admire the red and green and yellow. Those who had no family or friends to show the immense love they felt, those who got no presents and had no one to buy a present for. The ones that were background players on the big December stage. Those who didn’t know about the red and green and how the lights looked through the eyes of someone who once loved them. Those that didn’t know how much worse snow is when you’ve seen it on eyelashes hiding the brightest green light in the world. 

“Have you heard the news?” Clarke was too busy reading her book of the week to listen or participate in conversation Octavia and Raven had been having for the past hour. They were sitting in the only booth Grounders had, bright yellow chairs and sofa lined against the wall, complete opposite of the dark hardwood covering the floor and black furniture. The red booth, mostly reserved for Clarke, and Clarke’s paintings hanging on the walls were the only color Grounders had. Clarke loved the escape from sometimes harsh reality Grounders offered. It felt like the time and problems stopped existing the second she walked in. She loved every little piece of it.

“What news?”

Clarke had her back against the wall and her legs curled on the sofa. The cozy and warm part of December was bearable only in Grounders.

“I know you have,” she heard Raven say, “I was asking Clarke.”

“Me?” Clarke looked up over her glasses and found both of her friends staring at her. “What news?”

“Lexa is back.” Clarke knew she was eventually going to hear those three words. There was no way Lexa would ever spend more than two years away from Polis. Clarke was surprised she even lasted that long. But still, even with being prepared and knowing it was about to come she was far from ready to actually hear it. She slowly blinked and let the reality of a green and red December set deep into her skin. She tried to control her head and heart, to not smile at the simple mention of a name she taught her friends many years ago. “She asked about you.”

“You saw her?” That was the surprising part.

“Briefly.”

“Hi Anya,” Raven sat up when she saw Anya approaching. 

“Some place, please,” Anya pushed Clarke’s legs down and sat next to her. 

“Just because you said please.” Clarke closed the book and put it in her bag as she moved and made more space for Anya to sit. “You’ve always been my favorite.”

“I remember a time when that was a lie,” Raven smirked.

“I’ve been her favorite from the moment I covered her face with mud,” Anya said.

“Still one of the best days of my life.” Clarke always smiled when she’d think about the day she first met Anya and consequently Lexa. It was more than 10 years ago on a rainy October day. Clarke was at the lake, drawing, when the rain started. She was hurrying home, hoping to keep her stuff from getting wet, when something hit her bike, she lost control and fell face down. When she cleaned her eyes enough to not be temporarily blinded with all the mud covering her face, she looked up and saw Anya, with a ball in her hand. Then another girl, with braids in her hair and shock across her face ran up to them and apologized.

“I kinda doubt that,” Octavia said, then quickly added. “Not the best day part, but the favorite part.”

“I’m sure you don’t think it’s one of you two, because I’d hate to see you be wrong,” Anya grinned. She was in good mood, better than usually, much better. If Raven hadn’t told her about Lexa, Clarke wouldn’t have a clue as to why. But Anya loved Lexa more than life itself and it was no doubt that Lexa was the one responsible for all that happiness Anya couldn’t hide.

“I didn’t think you’d be here today,” Clarke said.

“Why?”

“It’s Friday, you are never here on Fridays.”

“I’m allowed to change my pattern a bit every now and then, aren’t I?”

“Of course you are babe,” Clarke leaned her head on Anya’s shoulder and hooked her arm under Anya’s.

“Hate to say it, but we gotta go,” Raven said and glanced at Octavia.

“We do?,” Octavia frowned, then realized what Raven was doing, “oh yes, we do. Gotta go do that thing. Yes yes.”

“Thing?,” Clarke lifted her brow.

“Yes. Call you later,” Raven said as she put her coat on and hurried Octavia.

“Okay?”

“Love you, bye.”

“That wasn’t weird at all,” Anya chuckled when Raven and Octavia disappeared into thin air.

“Weird is not really the word I’d use to describe it.”

“It’s not?”

“I’d call them obvious.”

“Interesting choice.”

There was only one person in the world who knew Anya better than Clarke. “I’d use it to describe you too.”

“Why’s that?”

“I know she’s back.”

“You do?”

“You’re starting to sound a lot like her, Anya. Use more than two words.” Anya sighed, but remained silent. “Is she gonna come here now? Is that why you’re so tense?”

“No, she won’t,” Anya said.

“Then why that whole thing? I’m happy she’s back.”

“You are?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know.”

“You should know better than to make wrong assumptions,” Clarke said. “You should know me better.”

“I know this wasn’t your plan.”

Anya wasn’t one for giving or receiving affection in excessive amounts, so when she put her hand on Clarke’s and rubbed tiny circles on her palm, Clarke knew she was feeling things that were not common for Anya to express. “You might be making a way bigger deal out of this. It’s not like we were-” Clarke never said it outloud, never to another person, and Anya wasn’t going to be the first to hear it.

“It’s not about that Clarke, I know you like to act tough, I’ve felt it first hand just how tough you can be,” Anya said. “For example, look at these walls. I could point at the exact painting that splits those you did when she was here and when she left.”

“Right about the same time miss I don’t hug started hugging me,” Clarke smiled. Anya was right, it was like someone cut a line with knife between Lexa time and post Lexa time in Clarke’s work. The joy, hope and stability of green and blue was replaced with black and red, but still, always, with a hint of dark green. 

“I had to make sure you weren’t going to fall apart.” 

Clarke decided long ago that it was better if her friends, Anya especially, never knew the extent to which her life did fall apart 2 years ago. “Always so sweet,” Clarke kissed her cheek.

“I might have lied. She is gonna be here.”

Clarke frowned. Talking about Lexa was one thing, seeing her was something entirely different. “When?”

“In half an hour.”

“So I was right, that’s why you came? To make sure I left in time?” Clarke put a space between them that wasn’t there a second before. Anya’s hand was no longer trying to sooth the pain she didn’t even know was starting to spread all over Clarke’s skin, and Clarke’s head was no longer on Anya’s shoulder, assuring her that she was in fact just fine.

“You know that’s not true Clarke,” Anya said. “She wants to see Indra and Gustus, and everyone else.”

“And she wants to do it not tomorrow or yesterday but today?”

“I thought it wasn’t a big deal.”

“It’s not,” Clarke got up and picked up her coat from under the bag. 

“She knows you’ll be here, you don’t have to go.”

“I have places to be,” Clarke tried her hardest to not show the crack Anya’s words made in the facade of her tough act. 

“It’s Friday.”

“I have to go.”

It was a red and green December, with a hint of blue and white when Clarke’s life fell apart and she had to have a smile on her face.

It was snowing that cold December morning when she sneaked out of the bed she successfully avoided for over 8 years. But one drunk night of keeping the tears hidden and locked away led her to the warmth of one bed she dreamed but never would admit to dreaming of and one embrace she loved above everything else. 

Clarke hated December. And snow. Snow was the worst. The sticky kind that hanged on her coats and gloves, the childlike happiness of green eyes when the perfect tiny flakes spent short couple of seconds on Clarke’s cheeks before melting away. It reminded her too much of Decembers that were no more, of someone who loved snow just as much as Clarke loved her. Lexa loved every shape and form those ice crystals had when they fell to the ground. Fluffy kind or the ice kind, it didn’t matter. Didn’t matter even if it was a blizzard, storm or the annoying type of powdery flurry. “As an artist you should appreciate it more Clarke. It’s giving you a blank canvas and freedom to do with it whatever you want. You can shape it however you want and at the same time never be in control,” Clarke could still hear Lexa’s voice in the back of her mind.

After that morning she spent walking home in the biggest snowstorm of the year, Clarke couldn’t stop thinking about white and why she preferred green. She couldn’t control either but the green was already shaped perfectly. Later that same day, when the plane was already up high and across the ocean, Clarke turned white into green. 

She dialed the only number she knew by heart. “Are you home?,” she asked. “I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” She had to get away from green and red and white.

* * *

“You are early.” In all the six months they had been together Niylah always had only smiles for Clarke. Clarke took her coat off and folded it over the only chair in the hallway. She smiled back at the girl standing in front of her and wrapped her hands around her neck.

“I can leave if you want.”

“You know that if it were up to me you’d spend all your days here.” Niylah leaned and kissed her. It was too soft for the type of forgetting Clarke needed. “Are you hungry?”

“Why are you so good to me?”

“You get what you give.”

“I’m not nearly as-”

“You are Clarke,” Niylah kissed her again, this time her forehead. “Whatever you may think, you are more than good to me and everyone else around you.”

“I didn’t come here to cry,” Clarke smiled.

“What did come here then? I thought that’s what I was here for. To make you cry. Isn’t that it? It’s not?”

“Shut up.”

* * *

“Your phone has been going off for the past half an hour like it’s doomsday,” Niylah said into Clarke’s hair couple of hours later. “It’s annoying.”

“I can turn it off.”

“Instead of just picking up?”

“I’m not in the mood to pick up.”

“Do you want me to do it for you?”

“You have a naked girl in your bed and you are thinking about phones,” Clarke turned around and threw her leg over Niylah’s hips and pulled her closer into her. 

“I know she’s back.” It was a simple thing to say and the last thing Clarke’s wanted to hear. Clarke let go of her and laid on her back. A siren somewhere in the distance went off, the wind was hitting windows hard and Clarke wished she could be out there, in the snow and wind and chaos of a half sleeping city. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Clarke got up and sat on the edge of the bed. She picked up her clothes from the floor and looked briefly at her phone. Anya was the one calling her.

“Clarke c’mon.” Niylah said when Clarke started to dress herself. “You don’t have to go.”

“Why did you think it was necessary to say that to me?”

“She was your best friend-”

“And everyone is acting as if she was the love of my life.”

“I never said that.”

“Do you ask everyone when their friends come back from being away if they wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know anyone who had a Lexa.”

“I didn’t have a Lexa.”

“Clarke come back to bed,” Niylah ran her hand up and down Clarke’s back. She had her jeans and shirt already back and Niylah must had known there was no way Clarke would spend the night in her bed. “I’m sorry.”

The softness of the word was what made Clarke’s shoulders drop. She sighed and took Niylah’s hand in hers. “It’s okay, I just had a long day.”

“Stay.” Niylah pulled Clarke’s hair to the side and kissed the right side of her neck. 

“I have work to catch up to.”

“C’mon baby stay, I can keep you warm.”

“I can come by tomorrow.”

Niylah sighed and pressed her forehead on the back of Clarke’s head. “You can’t go out in that weather.”

“It’s not my first time.”

“I know it’s not, but just stay.”

“I can’t I-”

“You’re so fucking stubborn.”

Niylah’s hands were no longer hanging around her stomach and Niylah’s mouth was far from her neck. Clarke was free to get up and leave. Or stay. Her phone rang again, it was Raven calling her that time. “Can I come tomorrow?” Clarke turned around and asked Niylah.

“You know you don’t have to ask.”

Clarke ran her fingers down Niylah’s forearm stopping when she got to her wrist. “Come here,” she pulled her to get up. “Please,” she said when Niylah wasn’t getting up.

“What?” 

“I just need, it’s,” Clarke sighed. “It’s been a long day.”

“So you said.”

“Are you mad at me?”

Niylah finally gave up and sat up getting closer to Clarke. “No.”

Clarke cupped her face and pulled her impossibly close. “Sure?”

“Yes Clarke, I’m sure,” Niylah smiled, again, and Clarke knew it was going to be okay.

“Okay.” Clarke kissed her once, and then again. “Good.” 

* * *

When she got out of Niylah’s apartment the storm was already winding down. Wind stopped and only a bit of snow was still falling. She took her phone out and dialed the last number that called her as she started to walk back home.

“Fucking finally,” Raven said the second she picked up. “We’ve been calling you for hours.”

“Who died?”

“No one died.” Clarke could hear music and people around Raven. It was loud when she first picked up, but now it was more in the distance. 

“Why did you call me then 10 times?”

“Why are you not at Grounders?”

“I had other places I had to be.”

“Everyone is here,” Raven let a couple of seconds of silence pass before saying the last thing Clarke wanted to hear. “You should come.”

“And who is everyone?”

“Monty, O, Linc, Any-”

“Is she coming,” a voice interrupted Raven just as about Clarke was getting ready to say no. A voice she could recognize even after 20 years of not hearing it.

“Shush, leave,” Raven said to that someone. “You should come Clarke. She asked a hundred times, that’s why I called you that many times. She was standing over my head making me and Anya call you,” Raven said. “I can tell them you are not feeling that well and that you’ll be here some other time.”

“You don’t have to lie, just say I’m busy.”

“Okay.”

Clarke always felt incredibly cold after the snow stopped falling. As she made her way away from Niylah and closer to someone else, she tried to convince herself she felt cold because snow stopped falling and not because of an echo of a familiar voice.

The last time they all were at Grounders was a goodbye party. The day before Lexa was supposed to leave. Clarke clinged onto her that day as if her hands around Lexa’s would somehow stop time and trap her there forever. One of Clarke’s biggest mistakes in life was doing instead of saying, at least when Lexa was standing opposite. 

She knew she should have said something instead of drowning a drink after drink until Lexa stopped her. 

She knew she should have said ‘Please be mine’ instead of kissing her that night.

She also knew it was 2 years ago and that the reason she was adamant to seeing her again wasn’t because of what has been or could have been. It was because she missed what they were and what she knew they weren’t going to be again. She knew she couldn’t handle being just one of, when once upon a time she was above them all.

Clarke realized she made a wrong turn only after she heard music and yellow flickering lights. She slowed down when she saw brightly lit room that usually was anything but. She saw Indra talking to Octavia and Monty looking at his phone. Then there was Lincoln with his back turned to the glass window. He was talking to someone and Clarke didn’t know if she was ready to see the person standing in front of him, but still, she walked and walked until she was standing under a lamp post right next to the entrance. 

She was wearing a blue shirt tucked into black jeans. Her hair was shorter than Clarke remembered. It hanged loosely just below her shoulders, with curls she used to hate. She wasn’t wearing glasses, that was also something Clarke didn’t remember.

Clarke was just about to turn around and leave, her heart heavy in her chest and her throat threatening to betray her. 

But then Lincoln moved to the side and Clarke’s heart dropped to her stomach. It took half a second for Lexa to realize who was standing just outside the window, and even less for her face to light up. Clarke raised her hand and did an awkward half wave. Lexa laughed and then disappeared. But not for long.

A couple of seconds later Clarke saw door open. “There you are,” Lexa said with the biggest smile on her face. Clarke was frozen in time and space, she couldn’t move or say anything. Lexa was all the opposite. As soon as Clarke was within arms reach, Lexa pulled her into her arms and hugged her tightly. Clarke was more careful in touching her back, but once her hands were around Lexa’s neck she relaxed and let go. She let Lexa hold her, to softness and warmth to consume her. “You cut your hair,” Lexa said in her ear and sent shivers down Clarke’s spine. 

“So did you.” 

Lexa chuckled. “Barely.” It was starting to get a bit too much for Clarke. She pulled back from Lexa’s arms and stepped back. 

“It was stupid to come out without a jacket. It’s cold,” Clarke said.

“It’s perfect.” Lexa’s smile used to warm Clarke up even on the coldest of days. Some things never change. “Come, let’s go inside.”

“I’d love to but I really have to-”

“Clarke.”

A single word was enough to kick the air out of Clarke’s lungs. “I-”

“Let me buy you a drink.”

“I really shouldn’t.”

“Then a glass of water.” Clarke’s heart skipped a beat when she finally gathered enough courage to look at the green eyes smiling at her. “Or are you gonna make me freeze to death?” 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Lexa said. “Let’s go then.” She moved to the side to let Clarke go first. The hand that was on her back for the shortest time ever, made Clarke realize she wasn’t the only one frozen in time that once was. She felt her back burning long after Lexa’s hand stopped being there.

Lexa used to light up every room she was in and Clarke was happy to see that was one of the things that didn’t change. She spent the rest of the night with a half empty glass of wine in her hand, laughing to jokes she didn’t really listen to and staring at the green whenever she had a chance. She didn’t participate in any of the conversations and Lexa must have noticed because her smile got softer as the time went on. But she didn’t say anything to Clarke until the blonde got up to leave.

“Can we get a coffee tomorrow or some other day that works for you?,” Lexa asked when no one could hear. Clarke could just nod. “Anya can give you my number.” Another nod. “It was good to see you Clarke, I’m glad you decided to come.” That time a smile accompanied the nod. “Always full of words,” Lexa grinned.

“Some things never change.”

“I’ll let you go now,” Lexa said. “It was really good to see you.”

“So good.” 

Later that night Clarke’s colors were green and blue again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this makes sense.

“Just call her already.”

Clarke had heard that or a version of that sentence a lot in the past week. It was like a never ending sermon of nothing but ‘Text her’, ‘Call her’ and anything else people thought would get her to do what she had been avoiding for a week. And it wasn’t like she was doing it on purpose. She was trying to do what everyone was telling her, what her heart was telling her, even though no one believed her.

She spent hours staring at the contact info on her phone, a number Anya gave her, the one she saved under a simple letter, L, because she couldn’t bare to look at the name. 

Clarke wasn’t going to call, she knew that much. But how does one even start the text she had to send?

_ Hey Lexa _ , she couldn’t do it like that. 

 

_ Hey you, it’s Clarke, _ felt too fake even for something that was apparently supposed to feel fake. How do you ask someone who once knew everything and now knows nothing, for a coffee?

 

_ Anya gave me your number and you said you wanted coffee _

 

_ Remember me? Do you still want that coffee? _

 

_ I know you probably only said it out of courtesy but I want that coffee if you still do _

 

_ It’s been two years since you left and I’ve felt every second. Every morning spent alone in Grounders felt like another stab into a heart that was feeling less and less like my own with every time I heard your name roll over someone’s tongue. I can’t have coffee with you because I’m too scared of the knife you might carry behind your back. _

 

_ I would love to have coffee with you _

 

“Can you let it go,” Clarke turned the phone over and leaned her head on Niylah’s shoulder. “I wasn’t even thinking about that,” she lied.

“I know you’ve spent a week thinking about it. It’s just a text. You’ve sent a million of those.” No one in Clarke’s life seemed to understand that while it was just a text, it wasn’t just coffee. “She called me.”

“What?” Clarke frowned in surprise. She lifted her head and pulled her hand out of Niylah’s soft grip.

“Lexa. She wants to get a couple of people together, buy us drinks.”

“And she called you?”

“Why are you so surprised?” Niylah sounded annoyed. “We were friends.”

“I know you were.” That was why Clarke was so surprised in the first place. There was no way Lexa didn’t know about her and Niylah, just like Clarke knew about Costia. 

“She said I should bring you if you’re up for it.”

“Bring me?”

“That’s what I said.”

Lexa and Niylah were friends since college days. That was how Clarke met Niylah.

“Are you going?”

“Do you want me not to go?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I’m asking you. If you don’t want me to go then I won’t.”

“I want you to do what you want to do. Nothing more or less.”

“Will you go with me?” Niylah sighed when Clarke just shook her head, not able to say what Niylah wanted to hear. “I was as surprised as you when she called me. We haven’t talked in a while and we weren't that close in the first place and especially considering the current state of things I was very surprised.”

“She doesn’t care about current state of things.”

It was something everyone thought and no ever mentioned, at least not directly to Clarke’s face.

The general opinion of everyone in Clarke’s life was that Lexa was in love and that she never said anything because Clarke wasn’t. 

The general opinion was that Lexa left because Clarke wasn’t in love. 

The general opinion was that Lexa left because Clarke kept breaking her heart. 

But the thing with opinions about Clarke and Lexa’s relationship was that they were never backed with facts or grounded in reality. They were built based on the stuff the two of them showed to other people, never on the things they said to each other. 

Wrong opinions.

“Apparently she doesn’t,” Niylah said. “Will you go with me?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know you’ll have to get over it?”

“Get over what?”

“Sulking because she left,” Niylah got up and went to kitchen. She came back with another bottle of wine. “She came back, you can stop.”

“I’m not sulking. I never was.”

“She left and she was gone.”

“I don’t see what’s your point.” Clarke waited for Niylah to pour wine in her glass before she picked it up.

“I know how hurt you were, but she’s back now. You can start over or go on from where you left it.”

Clarke never understood how could Lexa know her so well when everyone else was so oblivious. “Two years is a long time.”

* * *

Every day, except on Tuesdays, Grounders opened its door at 6am and closed them a bit after midnight. Every Friday Clarke was there, in her red booth, sometimes alone, sometimes not. Some days it was from 6am to midnight, other days it was just an hour in the morning or the afternoon. But every Friday she was there, with a book, piece of paper and pen, or, when things were really hard, with her sketchbook.

Two years ago she spent every day there, not just Fridays. It was the only way she knew she wouldn’t be spending the day crying. It was a strange feeling really. Clarke always expected she’d have trouble ever going back to Grounders without Lexa, that it was going to be too much of everything and that seeing her everywhere would be too much to bear. But as it turned out it was the only place she could be without feeling empty inside. 

“You’re early,” Indra smiled when she saw her. “Your coffee is not yet ready.”

“I can wait a minute.” 

“Or two,” Indra said. “How are you?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“I guess you have a lot of people that care about you.”

“It seems to be a newly found care.”

“I’ve always cared.” Indra put Clarke’s mug in front of her. There were two Clarke’s mugs in Grounders. One black and one white with a cat on it. The first one was a present from Lexa and the one Indra put in front of her at that moment. The other one was from her father. 

“I know. I’m perfect.”

“Is perfect a feeling?”

“Of course it is,” Clarke picked up the cup with her free hand. “I’ll come back soon.” Clarke put the mug on the table before sliding all the way in the corner of her booth. She put her bag next to her and pulled out the sketchbook she hadn’t touched in almost two years. It was the one that took in all the pain and tears Clarke poured out after Lexa left. 

First couple of drawings were still from when Lexa was still around. First one was a silhouette of a woman standing in front of a window. Clarke drew that the day she got the sketchbook. It was hurried. She knew she had only a couple of minutes before Lexa caught up with what she was doing and made her stop. And even though the lines were messy and far from perfect, it was still a time when Clarke thought she’d have all the time in the world.

Fourth was one was the first Clarke did after Lexa left. It was Lexa smiling with her head on a pillow, her hair curly and her eyes sparkly. 

Then there was Lexa sleeping, that was the last Lexa Clarke saw. Peacefully dreaming. 

Then there was the one with two bodies on a bed that looked a lot like Lexa’s.

Then the one of Lexa’s face.

Then another just like the one before.

Then the one with a hand tangled in Lexa’s hair.

Then a dozen of Lexa smiling, laughing and being happy. Clarke hated those the most because she never could get it quite right. 

Then there were a couple of Lexa reading, looking up over her glasses, frowning.

There was even one of Lexa cooking.

Clarke tried her best to draw every version of Lexa she could remember. That way she knew she’d had her forever. 

A clank of a cup of fresh coffee on the table right next to the empty one made Clarke break off the stare down contest she had with the drawing of Lexa. She lifted her head just a bit, with her finger still tracing the lines of Lexa’s face. The green whipped out the air out of her lungs. 

“You’ve always made me look better than I do.” Lexa was smiling, and that was about everything Clarke could see. A smile, glasses on her nose and the green behind them. “Can I sit?,” she asked taking off her coat but waiting for Clarke to give her permission to sit down. She could only nod. Clarke watched as Lexa took her coat off, folded it over and sat opposite Clarke. It was the first time they were there and not sitting next to each other. “Indra said it’s been a while since that one,” she pointed at the empty cup in front of Clarke, “and since you never called I guess this was my way of getting you that coffee I asked for.” Lexa smiled again and pushed the glasses up her nose. They were still the same Clarke bought after breaking the frame of the old ones. It was the only time Clarke could remember Lexa being mad at her. “Is that recent?”

It was only then that Clarke realized she still had that damn drawing opened and under her fingers. The one of Lexa sitting, just like she was sitting in that moment, with her hair pulled up in everything but a messy bun, the same glasses on her nose and a similar smile on her face. It wasn’t the same one and most people probably would never notice, but the lines around her eyes were not as soft as Clarke remembered them, as they were once upon a time. She closed the sketchbook. “Sorry,” a convenient word to be the first Clarke said. 

“You don’t have to put it away.”  _ You know those drawings are my favorite thing. They are not bad for my ego either. _ In another lifetime that would have been what Lexa would say to her. “Can I see?,” Lexa asked instead. 

“It’s old,” Clarke said gripping the soft covers of the notebook Lexa got her. She was sure Lexa was aware of it. Or maybe she forgot about the rainy day they spent right there where they were in that moment, Clarke drawing and Lexa reading. It was an experience to sit next to Lexa while she was reading. Gasps and whispered words followed with  _ Clarke you’d never believe what just happened.  _ Clarke felt like she read hundreds of books just by sitting next to Lexa. 

“Can I still see?” 

If there wasn’t a date in the upper right corner of every page and drawing Clarke would have probably shown her. But instead she put the sketchbook in her bag. “Some other time.” 

“I love the new ones,” Lexa said turning her head and eyes away from Clarke and to the wall on her right side, the one with big and heavy paintings. The black, white and red ones that weren’t there when she left. “Even though I have to say I was surprised when I saw them.”

“Why?” Clarke’s eyes were glued to sharp yet soft features of Lexa’s profile. The vein on her neck that showed when she was talking and prevailed when she was yelling. Never at Clarke though. 

“I’m not used to the colors.” 

Clarke looked away, at some non existent dot on the wall, when she noticed Lexa’s head turning back to her. “You don’t like it?” 

“It’s just different.”

Clarke could feel the green watching her, she could feel the words hanging above her head and those unsaid drifting between what they could say and what they wanted to say. “Change is good.”

“I remember when a time when you were preaching something else,” Lexa said.  _ What about your promises Clarke?  _ Clarke could hear the words even though she was sure they weren’t even in the back of Lexa’s mind. 

“There’s still a dash of green in there.” 

Clarke tried her best to smile. But Lexa’s words sent the smile far away. “All the black sure consumed it.” A smile was always on Lexa’s face. “But I like it.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there last year.” When Clarke frowned Lexa explained. “Exhibit. I’ve always thought I’d be there. I was in Tokyo. I made Anya send me photos.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Which part?,” Lexa arched her brow and smiled. “You’ve dreamed about that for a long time. I wanted to see it, even if I was on the other side of the world and we weren’t-”  _ friends anymore _ , Clarke heard the words Lexa left unsaid. “If I had missed it I would’ve hated myself.”

“It was a nice day.”

“Nice day?,” Lexa chuckled. “Is that really the way Clarke Griffin would describe her first art exhibit?”

“It was close to perfect.”  _ I missed you more than I was willing to admit to anyone.  _ The coffee was still hot and burned her tongue. Clarke was grateful for the way it took the pressure off of her heart. 

“I hope I’ll be there for the next one.”

All that was happening was a surprise for Clarke. She spent a lot of her nights imagining the day she’d be alone with Lexa again, the things she’d say, the apologies she’d make. In none of her dream realities was Lexa the way she was right then and there while sitting in front of her. Clarke was expecting courtesy nods, short yes and no sentences, rushed coffee out of necessity to get it out of the way. Avoidance and darkness, that was what Clarke was expecting. Bright green and smiles and softness she almost forgot, was what she expected the least. “I hope so too.” Clarke hated that Lexa knew her as good as she did, even after not seeing her for so long, not talking or caring, at least on the outside, she still could read Clarke better than anyone ever and then show it. She knew when to look away, when to smile and when to change the topic to something that hurt a lot less.

“You never called.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Is there a reason or? Have I completely missed the point and you didn’t want this to happen?” That was when first hints of fear came up in Lexa’s eyes, something she knew intimately and something Lexa was obviously trying to hide behind the facade of all the other things she wanted Clarke to see. “Because I can leave if that’s the case.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Clarke’s words did a good job of erasing fear, they always had. “I just wasn’t sure if you wanted me to call.”

“That’s so-,” Lexa sighed,  _ typical for you babe. _ “You really think I’d tell you I want something I really didn’t want?”

“You really think I was thinking about that?” Clarke dug her teeth in her bottom lip. She wasn't supposed to say that. They were doing such a good job dancing around things they didn’t want to say. “Sorry.”

“Can I tell you something?” 

“Anything.”

“You look like you’re talking to a ghost. I can’t remember the last time we talked and I did most of it.” Clarke vividly remembered the last time that happened and she knew Lexa was saying it just to say something, to move away from the apology she didn’t want to hear. “I mean I do,” Lexa said, glimmer of fear again in her eyes, “I do remember. But you still look like you’re talking to a ghost.”

“I probably wasn’t expecting this to go the way it’s going.”

Lexa chuckled. “Do I wanna know what you were expecting?”

“As if you don’t have an idea.” It was all too easy and all to familiar to not drop into the heart warming parts of talking with Lexa. 

“The way I see it, one night and two years is nothing compared to eight years and a lot more nights that happened before.” Lexa shook her head before Clarke got the chance to say the wrong thing again. “You don’t have to say anything Clarke.”

“But I want to.”

“I kinda don’t wanna hear it.”

“Okay.” Clarke took a sip of almost already cold coffee. It seemed that the warmth went away along with the softness around Lexa’s eyes. “How are you?,” Clarke changed the subject, or at least tried to. “I mean your job and everything.” 

“It’s good. We are opening a branch here. That’s why I was able to come back,” Lexa said the stuff Clarke already knew, catching bits and pieces from Anya and Raven. “You know I never could stay away from here.”

“So your plan is to stay?”

“Yes.” Clarke didn’t miss the way her heart sped up when she heard Lexa say it. “I hope you don’t mind me calling Niylah.” Niylah. Clarke almost forgot about her girlfriend. 

“Why would I mind?” 

“I don’t know,” Lexa lied and Clarke missed it. “You can come with her to that thing if you want. Raven and Octavia will probably be there also. I would’ve called you but-”

“Thank you.” They were both quiet for a while, before Clarke asked what was bugging her.  “Anya told you?” The fact that she couldn’t say the words probably should have been a warning sign to Clarke. But she was never good at catching those.

“I saw photos,” Lexa said and then explained. “Social media is a,” she paused, “neat thing.”

Clarke tried to remember all the photos Niylah posted of them together and how many of those photos were in bed. It never even crossed her mind that Lexa could see or that she could actively seek any of it. Another apology Clarke had to leave unsaid. “You look good together. You look happy,” Lexa smiled and it never even crossed Clarke’s mind the amount of pain and tears it took for Lexa to be able to smile while saying that.

“Thank you,” a simple words said in response to years of heartbreak. “Do you have-”

“No,” Lexa said. “I mean no one to post photos with. But I’m not lonely. Which reminds me. Next Friday is the last before Christmas.”

At first Clarke frowned, but then she remembered a custom once cherished and now almost forgotten. “We kinda agreed to not do it anymore.”

“You’re telling me I’m gone for one Christmas and the whole world falls apart?”

“Always so dramatic,” Clarke chuckled. They used to have a thing. Anya, Raven, Octavia, Lincoln, Lexa and Clarke. A Christmas themed party on the last Friday before Christmas. It had always been one of three of Clarke’s favorite days in the year. “No one was into it last year and I don’t think anyone thought about it this year.” Truth was that Clarke was the one that didn’t want a party the year before. 

“I still refuse to believe it,” Lexa said. “Did you at least have fun some other way then?”

Clarke spent that day sitting in the almost exact spot the was sitting then, Raven on one side and empty bottle of vodka in front of her. “We got drunk.”

“So did I,” Lexa said. “But we have to do it this year. It’s one of the things I was looking forward to the most.”

“You were looking forward to it?” Clarke lifted her brows.

“Why do you look so surprised? As if you don’t know how much I loved it.”

“You weren’t showing it.”

“No no, I just wasn’t wearing it,” Lexa grinned. “We have to do it.”

“We’ll see.”

“We will do it.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“You were never particularly good at saying no to me.”

They both knew the lie hiding behind those words.

* * *

It was Lexa who came up with Friday Christmas party tradition. It was a cold and drunk December night in her dorm room. 

_ “I wanna see you dressed as Santa and Grinch and Rudolph,”  _ Lexa had said with her head in Clarke’s lap. Clarke was the sober one and Lexa was the mending a broken heart one. 

_ “We don’t have to have make up a party for that, you can just ask.” _

_ “As if you’d dress up in that for me.” _

_ “You know I’d do anything for you.” _

_ “Words.” _

_ “So you want a party?” _

_ “Yes. I want everyone to dress up and I want your cookies and I want booze.” _

_ “You know that means you will also have to dress up.” _

_ “I can handle that. But it has to be your idea. No one will do it if I ask.” _

_ “Anything for you.” _

_ “I’m gonna sleep now.” _

_ “On the floor?” _

_ “On your legs.” _

And so every year, on last Friday before Christmas, six of them would get together in the red booth in Grounders. There were only two rules, you’d have to dress up in line with the color theme of the year and you’d have to have fun.

Sobered up Lexa realized too late how much she would hate the ideas drunk Lexa came up with. But she’d still always follow drunken rules she made Clarke enforce on their friends, last thing she wanted was to disappoint. She’d dress up but make sure her disdain was always visible. It earned her more than one death stare from Clarke, but she never said anything. Clarke was always good at keeping her promises and Lexa’s secrets, no matter how silly either of those were. 

Clarke secretly loved the silly things Lexa went through to be in line with the theme every year. From golden antlers, to white sunglasses and tiny green trees on her sweaters. 

“Make it green,” Lexa told her before she left Grounders. “The color, make it green.”

Green was the last color they did, the last party they had before Lexa left. It all happened too fast and too soon and too everything. One Friday Lexa was sitting next to her whispering Grinch jokes in her ear, and the next one she spent packing her bags to move everything on the other side of the world. 

“Well if that ain’t underwhelming,” Raven said when she saw Clarke, in dark green sweater and black jeans. “Where’s the Christmas party spirit Griffin?”

“Grinch stole it.” Clarke put the cookies on the table and sat next to Raven. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Lincoln and Octavia will be a bit late. Anya and Lexa are on their way. Aren’t you underdressed?”

“I have green.”

“It’s strange.”

“You’re not much better.” Raven was wearing a light green dress with dark green christmas trees on it. “And it’s a repeat, you’ve already wore that one.”

“I’m still disappointed.”

“Well I didn’t want to do this in the first place so wearing anything is a win really.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“And explain it how?”

“You’re not in the Christmas mood anymore. Two years is a long time,” Raven said. “People change,” she took one cookie and ate it before Clarke could’ve said something. “She’s the one that left, you don’t owe her anything.”

No one ever knew the whole story.  Clarke was never brave enough and Lexa left. Clarke didn’t even know if Anya knew. If it was to judge by the way she handled and took care of Clarke in those two years, the best guess would be that Lexa never told her what happened. Neither about the night before she left or any of the other nights. 

“I’ve told you to not talk like that.”

“And I’ve told you to not wallow in whatever the thing is. God knows I love her but if you’re gonna act like that then…,” Raven sighed. “I thought you wanted her back. I thought when she came back you’d go back to your old self.”

“I never stopped being myself.”

Clarke knew what Raven was trying to tell her, but she decided to ignore it, like all those times before. Like when she pretended she was sick two months after Lexa left because the Grounders all of a sudden became too much, because she couldn’t be there, because it was Lexa’s birthday and Clarke just couldn’t. 

“You know what I mean.”

“Be nice.” No one knowing was something Clarke needed, it was easier in more ways than one. She didn’t have to explain something she didn’t know how to explain, she didn’t have to know everyone knew, she didn’t have to think if they are looking at her like  _ that  _ because they knew. It was easier to pretend she was hurt because she had to learn to live without her best friend. But what Clarke never thought about was why no one had ever asked her how she went from being inseparable to not talking. She never thought about the fact that they all stopped telling her about Lexa even though she never asked them.

“There they are,” Raven’s face lit up when she saw Anya walk in. Clarke’s heart started beating faster when she saw Lexa behind her. 

“I’ll never understand why you don’t just ask her out.”

“I don’t think that’s something you wanna be talking about.”

“I just think-”

“Shush,” Raven pushed her to move further down closer to the wall. “Finally,” she said when Anya and Lexa got there.

“Nice to see you too,” Anya smiled. “Clarke Griffin, what the fuck are you wearing?,” she said when she saw Clarke. Clarke who was too busy staring at the thing Lexa had on her. She didn’t see it until Lexa got rid of her coat. The ugliest green sweater Clarke had ever seen, with red ornaments and golden tinsel going all around from Lexa’s neck down to her waist. Lexa smiled when she saw her staring. The type of smile Clarke almost forgot existed. 

“I’ve never thought this day would come. You look like a fucking Christmas tree,” Raven laughed. 

“I dress to impress,” Lexa grinned and sat across Clarke. “I never thought I’d be the overdressed one.”

“Like I said, what the fuck Clarke?,” Anya sat next to Lexa and took one cookie out of the metal tin in front of Raven. “At least your cookies are still good.”

“I didn’t want to be the odd one again.”

“Lame as fuck,” Anya said.

Soon after Lincoln and Octavia came and with them the hard liquor. Clarke held her hands tight around her glass of water, and her eyes on Lexa. Clarke didn’t feel the need to smile as much as she did that night in almost two years. Seeing Lexa laugh, seeing her friends be as happy as she was supposed to be, made her heart feel warm. She ignored most of the stuff they were talking about, participating only with a word or two every now and then, to avoid the questioning looks. She focused on Lexa, her fingers tapping on the table so close to Clarke’s hand, if she reached just a bit she could touch her. Her eyes warm and the lines around them soft. And a smile that could melt even the thickest ice.

“You were never the odd one, I was,” Lexa said after the rest of their friends went to dance. 

Spending more than half of the night just staring at Lexa gave Clarke the chance to see her get a bit more drunk with every drink Indra put in front of them. Lexa used to be the most affectionate person in the world when drunk. Smiles, laughs and hugs, that was what Clarke got with drunk Lexa. “You were the cool one,” Clarke said.

“You mean the lame one.”

“I think that as the creator you get to be the odd one.”

“Shhhh,” Lexa grinned. “You’re not drinking,” she said looking at the glass in front of Clarke.

“I am,” Clarke awkwardly lifted her half empty glass of water.

“You’re breaking your rules.”

“You mean your rules?” Clarke arched her brow.

“Shhh,” Lexa grinned.

“Besides, rule is to have fun, not be drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“You’re also not sober.”

“How could you know that?”

“I can see it in your eyes.”

“Always betraying me,” Lexa smiled and sighed, too loud and overly dramatic, proving that she was in fact far from sober. “But that’s new,” she said pointing at the glass in Clarke’s hand.

“I’ve done a lot of stupid shit that could’ve been avoided if I drank more water.” Lexa’s expression changed after the  _ stupid shit _ part. It was gone before Clarke finished the sentence, but it was there and Clarke didn’t miss it. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Like what?”

“It wasn’t all stupid.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Lexa.”

“We both did a lot of stupid shit.” Lexa’s eyes fell down to the tiny L cut into the table right next to Clarke’s hand. There was an even smaller C right under it. Lexa put the L there because  _ I’ll always watch over you Clarke _ . “Sometimes I think all of it was stupid.” Clarke could see in Lexa’s eyes she meant every word she said. “Certainly not worth all of this.”

“I can apologize.”

“I don’t want to fight.”

“Then stop talking.”

Lexa chuckled. “You think you get to say that?”

“You are drunk.”

“I thought that was a good enough excuse to say and do selfish shit.”

“I’ll leave,” Clarke got up and picked up her coat. 

“What’s going on? Where do you think you’re going?,” Raven and Anya got back before she could leave unnoticed.

“I promised Niylah I won’t be long,” Clarke lied and Lexa chuckled before emptying her glass.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” Raven frowned. “I’ll call her and tell her to stop being stupid.”

“No, don’t do that,” Clarke said. “It’s been a long day and I just wanna go to bed. You guys continue to have a blast,” she tried to smile. She put on her coat, smiled again as she said her goodbyes and hurried out and away, far from the fire burning in her lungs and under her feet.

“Is everything okay?,” Anya stopped her when she was just a couple of feet from the door, from the outside, from the air she needed so bad. 

“Of course.” 

“I know when you lie.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Text me when you get to Niylah’s place,” Anya said. “Or wherever it is that you’re going.”

“I will. And you promise me to enjoy yourself.”

Being outside felt like being punched in the face, over and over again. It felt good and it gave her brain something else to focus, to not think about what she was leaving behind but about what’s in front of her. She texted Niylah and pretended her heart was numb because of cold, and not because of what she left behind.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been close to 30 hours and 16 minutes since Clarke turned 18 when she got a call about Finn’s accident. He left her house that same night a bit after 2 am. He was drunk and they got in a fight over it. Clarke didn’t want him to drive like that. She wanted to call Lexa and that was what made things worse. 

“Don’t call me when you end up in some ditch,” was the last thing Clarke said to him.

He crashed his car 5 miles from Clarke’s house. 

He was laying there, cold, alone and dead for nearly 3 hours before someone drove by and called the police. 

Raven was the one that called Clarke.

“Something terrible happened,” was the only thing she managed to say through tears. “Finn is dead.”

It was the first time Clarke could feel her heart break. The ringing in her ears, the numbness in her limbs and immense emptiness inside her chest. The seconds, maybe minutes of not feeling anything, of feeling empty and cold and not enough, replaced with days of tears and months of feeling too much. The guilt that started to eat her from the inside.

It didn’t take long for her to realize that alcohol made it better. For a bit at least.

She learned there was a point in her drunk state, where it wasn’t too much or too little, but just enough to not feel. Not too much because that would mean she’d spend the night crying, and not too little because that would mean she’d spend the night not wanting to be alive.

“Clarke you need to stop,” Lexa told her one night, four weeks after it had happened. “I understand it makes it easier but you have to stop or you’ll never be able to.”

“It’s my fault. I should’ve never let him leave.” Clarke was holding onto an almost empty bottle of vodka. One she drank all alone, with Lexa sitting next to her. Existing. Not saying anything and doing even less. Just being and listening when Clarke wanted to talk. She did a lot of that. Just being there. Watching Clarke get closer to ruining her life. 

“It’s not your fault Clarke. He never listened, to you or to anyone, did only what he wanted to do. It’s not your fault. There’s nothing you could’ve done. It’s no one’s fault. You can’t blame yourself for something you had no way of preventing.”   
“I should’ve made him stay.”

“You have to stop punishing yourself.” She took the bottle from Clarke’s hands. The first time since it happened, first time she stopped just existing and listening. “You won’t be able to survive if you continue doing this. You have to stop,” she said. “I can’t imagine what you feel like but you have to stop. If you can’t do it for yourself then do it for those of us who love you. Replace this,” she said opening the bottle and spilling the rest of it on the ground next to them, “with something else. Start drawing again, write, pour it out and not in. We can do things together it will make it easier. We can go to the lake and walk, we can start doing something, anything. Just stop.”

“That’s not the problem.”

“I know. It makes the problem easier. But no more.”

It was 3 years after that day when Clarke drank alcohol again. It was just a glass of wine and Lexa was sitting next to her. There were a lot less problems and a lot more memories.

Last time she drank to drown her sorrows and to forget, not the problems, but the memories, was when she let Lexa go. When she made her go. But that time there was no line separating good from bad. No matter how drunk Clarke got everything stayed bad. 

“You seem deep in thoughts.”

“Morning to you too.” Clarke’s father came through the front door carrying newspapers in his hands and a big smile on his face. He was always smiling and it was Clarke’s favorite thing about him. Even when he was lying in a hospital bed, barely alive, he still always smiled when she was around. 

He put the folded papers down on the counter, in front of Clarke, and poured himself what was left of the coffee from the coffee pot. “No one taught you to never leave this pot empty?”

“It was already half empty when I got here.”

“And now it’s completely empty,” he dangled it in front of her face.

“Then make some,” she smiled taking a sip from her still warm cup.

“No manners whatsoever,” he sighed and started the coffeemaker. “Azgeda won last night.”

Clarke skimmed the folded papers and saw the results of last nights games. “Trikru lost.”

For Lexa it was a sort of religious experience. Lexa would swear it was because she played through school and Clarke blamed it on the hot girls. “I remember the time when that was a sign of a couple of days of mourning,” Jake said. 

He wasn’t wrong. Being around Lexa when Trikru lost to Azgeda, to anyone really but especially Azgeda, was like being around a really sad puppy.  _ If only they did this thing that other way, Clarke, they would’ve won _ , occasional comment about how wrong the tactics were, and how bad referee was, how bad the tackles were and how someone has to show them what happens when you are too aggressive  _ It’s just not right Clarke _ . It had been over two years since Clarke had last went to a game or even saw one on TV. “Yeah,” she turned the papers over to the other side, news about some pipeline leak somewhere far away. Everything was better than memories she tried so hard to push back. She hadn’t seen or heard from Lexa since that Christmas party. And in some strange way she was okay with it.

Clarke spent the Christmas at home with her parents and New Years with Niylah in Polis. She started and deleted the text she had in her mind for Lexa more than a dozen times on both Christmas and New Years. She never sent it because she knew Lexa did what Lexa wanted and if she wasn’t contacting her that meant she didn’t want to be contacted either. It was back to square one. Back to Lexa not existing in Clarke’s life. 

“When did you get up?” Jake sat across of her, with his ‘Best Dad’ mug in his hand. He took the papers and threw them on one of the cupboards behind his back.

“Couple of hours.”

“Why didn’t you come downstairs?”

“I know how much you two love your morning routine.” Abby and Jake always had the type of relationships Clarke hoped she would have one day. The type that has no big words and no grand actions, one filled with kindness, love that was showed over shared meals, hums and whispers, compromises they did only for each other and never for anyone else, not even Clarke. Days filled with giggling and laughing, sometimes silence because anything else would be too much. 

“We love you more,” he said.

Clarke smiled. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I didn’t know you were coming home.” Jake knew his daughter better than almost anyone else in the world. He knew when to ask and when to just say and see what she was ready and willing to say in return. Both him and Abby knew what Clarke needed and when she needed it.

“It was kinda last minute.”

“I thought you’d be spending the birthday in the city.”

“I needed a bit of fresh air,” Clarke said.

“You didn’t come to spend your birthday sulking?”

“Why would I sulk?”

“You know you can’t answer questions with questions, right?,” Jake smiled.

“God knows where I got it from.”

He just shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know if your mom told you, but Lexa called.”

Clarke frowned. She talked with her mother more than once since Lexa got back and she never once mentioned Lexa and especially not the fact that Lexa called. “When?”

“A couple of weeks ago. When she got back, I think.”

“What did she say?”

“That she’s planning to make the trip in the near future and wondered if she could stop by for coffee and cookies.”

“I didn’t know.” Lexa loved Abby and Jake. Since the moment they met Clarke’s parents treated Lexa like they knew her their entire life, like an extension of Clarke. Whatever she needed or wanted, the doors were always open. 

“Is she coming for the party?”

“What party?” 

“Birthday.”

“I think I’m a bit too old to be having one of those in my parent’s house.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time for you to say something like that and still have the party at your parent’s house.”

“I think this time I can assure you there will be no party.” Clarke knew exactly what he was thinking about when he said that. Twice in her life Clarke had said something similar. 

First time she was 5 and everyone from her class celebrated their sixth birthday in a theme park while Abby wanted, insisted and demanded for Clarke to do it at home. It was one of the rare times her parents disagreed about something. Abby convinced him, because  _ It’s madness Jake, she is a child and she will do as I say, _ and Jake convinced Clarke that it was her idea all along. 

The second time was for her twentieth when it was just her and Lexa in the backyard watching stars.

“You know you can talk to me about whatever.”

“I know dad.”

“I remember a time when you made sure to tell me every little detail.”

“Maybe because I was ten,” Clarke chuckled.

“You used to come home from school and spend an hour talking about Maggie’s dress,” he grinned. “I even remember the last time you did something like that.”

“You do?”

“You came home, covered in mud, your sketchbook ruined and with an almost broken bike.”

Clarke frowned. She knew what he was talking about, but she couldn’t remember she talked about it with him. “I said something?”

“You said a very rude girl’s ball hit your bike and you fell. And you said there was another girl with her, that she helped you get up and get your bike up and working, that she picked up the stuff that fell out of your bag and that she had braids and the prettiest green eyes you had ever seen.”

“I said all that.”

“Yes. You even said her name.”

“And why don’t I remember any of it?”

“I’m sure there’s a lot of other stuff you don’t remember.” Clarke let silence fall between them. Instead of saying something, anything, acknowledging even, she stared out the window, the white trees and grass that was going to be green in six months. “How did your girlfriend react to you spending your birthday at your parent’s house?”

“I never said I’ll be spending it here.”

“You just came the day before because you missed us?”

“She understands.” Niylah didn’t really understand and Clarke didn’t blame her. They kinda made plans for the day and Clarke kinda canceled it all very last minute. Niylah didn’t understand and Clarke couldn’t really explain it just by saying  _ I have this strange urge to spend the day in my parent’s house alone. _

“You could’ve brought her with you. It’s been a while and you know your mom loves her.”

“You also love her.” Everyone loved Niylah.  _ She’s a keeper, be aware of it Clarke _ was the first thing her mother said to her after they met.

“We all love her then.”

Love was a difficult concept and even harder word. “Yes we do,” Clarke said. 

“Then bring her around so we can show her just how much.”

“I promise I will.”

“Okay.” Jake smiled. He put his cup in the sink and picked up the papers. “Gotta go do some work now. Call if you need something.”

“Don’t have too much fun.”

* * *

The last time Clarke was home for her birthday was 8 years ago and she wasn’t alone that time. She had Lexa next to her, making it hurt less. It was also the first and only time she had been home for her birthday since Finn died.

“I’m not jealous,” was one of the things he said that night. 

“She’s my friend and I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

“She’s always a friend.”

“You can’t keep doing this Finn.”

“Doing what Clarke?”

“She’s my friend.”

“She doesn’t look at you like a friend.”

“Why do you always have to make it about that?”

“It’s not my fault you are blind to it.”

“Just let me call her, please.”

“No, I don’t need your friends taking care of me. I’m capable of doing that myself.” He wasn’t and Clarke didn’t stop him. 

She still had a couple of hours before midnight. That used to be her favorite day in the year, after Christmas. For a long time it was the only beginning of the New Year Clarke celebrated. Her parents never made it about presents, even though she got plenty of those, it was about being happy to still be there, walking and talking. There was also the part with cake, gift wrap and all the cards.

Clarke was laying on her bed, phone in her hand and eyes closed. “Do you want me to stay up with you?” She opened her eyes and saw Abby standing at the door.

“Not a baby,” Clarke said and pushed herself up to sit on the bed. Abby took it as an invitation and came in to sit on the side of the same bed. 

“You will always be my baby.” Abby leaned and kissed the side of Clarke’s head. “Do you wanna talk?”

“About?”

“Why you are here.”

“I just wanted to be alone.”

“For your birthday of all days?”

“Yes.”

“Why not with friends? Now that you are all back in the same town,” Abby said as to ask  _ Lexa is back, why are you not with her?  _ “You know I never asked what happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you didn’t want to come home for Christmas two years ago.”

“I was probably sick, I don’t remember,” Clarke lied.

“Clarke.”

“What?”

“Life is easier when you talk about stuff instead of keeping it all in and bottling it until it kills you.”

“Mom, I’m not-”

“I won’t pressure you, you know that,” Abby said. “I just want you to know that it’s okay to sometimes feel and show it to people. It’s okay to run back to your parents,” she paused and smiled, “because it’s your birthday and someone is there but not really.”

“When did you and dad learn to be so vague?”

Abby chuckled. “Years of living with you honey.”

“Thank you,” Clarke said.

“Don’t stay up too late.” Abby kissed her again before she left the room.

Once Clarke was all alone again it was hard to keep her head from spiraling into places and things she didn’t want to think about.

**Clarke:** are you still mad?

Clarke sent the message to one person that had the power to distract her. Almost always. She needed someone, something, to keep the thoughts her old room brought back away. Of and about people she no longer shared her life with. Stuff she never thought she’d have to think or feel. 

If she could, Clarke would’ve gone back in time, ten years ago, and tell younger Clarke to wait a bit, to not climb up her bike and go. To just wait a couple more minutes. Maybe that would have solved all of her problems. She wouldn’t have a problem with Finn staying the night that day and she’d never have a Lexa sized hole in her heart and life.

**Niylah:** I’m not mad. I just don’t understand

A sigh of relief left her lungs when she got the text. What Clarke did, canceling plans made long before, was wrong and she knew it hurt Niylah and she knew she had every right to be hurt, to not respond to the text. But Niylah loved her and she was the only safety net Clarke had. The only one with open arms and zero questions.

**Clarke:** you know it’s a tough time of the year

**Niylah:** I know, that’s why I thought you’d want to spend it with me

**Niylah:** I realize it was stupid of me to think that

**Niylah:** because I’m not that person

It broke Clarke’s heart knowing Niylah’s thought that and knowing she was right.

**Clarke:** you know that has nothing to do with this

**Niylah:** maybe, but last year we spent it together

**Clarke:** last year we got drunk

**Niylah:** we did

**Clarke:** I shouldn’t be getting drunk

**Niylah:** I understand

**Niylah:** I’m not mad, just disappointed

Just disappointed. Clarke never understood why people put adjectives before words showing their anger or disappointment. A word won’t make you feel better and it could do a lot more damage to someone else.

**Clarke:** I’m sorry I disappointed you

**Niylah:** you didn’t disappoint me clarke, I understand

**Niylah:** can I call you tomorrow?

**Clarke:** you don’t have to ask that

**Niylah:** maybe you want to be left alone

**Clarke:** you can call me whenever you want

**Niylah:** I love you, you know

**Clarke:** I love you too

* * *

Clarke never dreamed she’d be spending her 28th birthday laying in her parent’s backyard, alone, with a bottle of wine and a lifetime of memories she almost regretted.

The snow had just started falling, the tiniest of flakes landing softly on her cheeks when the phone in her pocket made another sound. It was half an hour after midnight and it was the fourth or fifth message she got. She didn’t count.

Two from Raven, one from Anya and one that made her heart stop.

**Lexa:** happy birthday Clarke

Lexa was away for two of Clarke’s birthdays and she never sent that text. Clarke was sure the new tradition would continue. But Lexa was always full of surprises.

**Clarke:** thank you

There was not a part of Clarke that didn’t hope for another text then another then another. It was so long since she and Lexa just talked, with nothing hanging above them or behind them and with no urgency of what was in front of them.

**Lexa:** is the party for a crowd or just two people?

Lexa must had felt the same way because the text came almost instantly. 

**Clarke:** it’s just me

Then another surprise. Lexa was calling her.

“I didn’t think you’d pick up,” she was never the one to wait for formalities. ‘His’ and ‘hellos’ were never her thing, at least not with Clarke. “Happy birthday.”   
“You know I’d always pick up. And thank you.” One half lie and one truth. White lies are sometimes better than black truths.

“You are alone?”

“Mom and dad are asleep. I kinda wanted to be alone tonight.”

“You are back home?,” Lexa sounded surprised. Confused even. Up until then Clarke was sure she texted and called because someone had told her where Clarke was.

“For a couple of days.”

“And how are you celebrating?”

“With a bottle of wine.”

“Just one?” Lexa was careful with the words she chose to say. 

“Maybe even less.”

“Good,” Lexa said. “Are Raven and Octavia gonna be there? Or just Niylah?”

“Just me. And mom and dad I guess.”

Clarke heard the smallest of sighs, a change in Lexa’s breathing really. It wasn’t hard to pick up on something she knew so well. Some things you can never forget no matter how hard you try. “You should’ve called,” Lexa said.

“Why?”

“I could’ve helped you choose the wine.”

“You did always know more about it.”

“I know.” Even though she couldn’t see it, Clarke could hear the smile in Lexa’s words. “How does life look back there?”

“Like only just a couple of minutes have passed.”

“Is my lamp still there?”

Clarke laughed. The lamp Lexa was talking about was actually the only source of light she had. It felt appropriate and right. She decided it was better to not share that with Lexa. “I think my parents are too afraid to move it.” It was more a lantern than a lamp. Lexa brought it one night, many days ago, and no one dared to touch it ever since.

“I called your mom,” Lexa said. “I hope that’s okay with you. I just thought it would be nice to see both of them. For a lunch or something.”

“They can’t wait.”

“You can say no.”

“I have no reason.” Clarke smiled when she realized that even with all the days and months that had passes, Lexa was still Lexa and Clarke’s okay was still something she would always ask for. “And you know you don’t have to ask me that.”

“So you have no plans for today?,” Lexa asked, changing the subject back to something that felt safer to both of them.

“I might go for a walk. It’s been a while since I’ve been alone. I think it’s gonna be good for me.”

“Is it?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to worry about me anymore.”

“There’s a lot of words you just said that sound really wrong..”

A part of Clarke hoped Lexa would just jump over it, not acknowledge that what Clarke said was indeed a horrible string of words, one she never thought she’d say to anyone, especially not to Lexa. But there’s something to be said about late nights and voices that are too familiar and sounds too intimate for not losing every inhibition one might have. “I’m sorry,” Clarke said.

“I always worry about you.” Silence. A second. Then two and three. It was too comforting to just listen to Lexa breathe. “You shouldn’t be alone today.”

“Stars look a bit different than they used to.” It was Clarke’s turn to avoid and deflect.  _ Will you please be with me then? _ Dreams and wishes were nice and warm but reality was too cold and harsh for them to survive.

“They look the same from where I’m sitting.”

“Can you see the moon?”

“It’s a bit cloudy but she’s pretty.” In the eight years of their friendship there were only a couple of times when they spent weeks away from each other. Not by great distance or a lot of time but enough to not see one another for, what then seemed, like eternity. Those nights were spent on the phone under the stars, making sure they still saw the same moon. “Isn’t it a bit too cold to spend the night outside? You’ll get sick.”

Last time Clarke did it, last time they did it together, Clarke got sick. A week spent in bed type of sick. “I like being cold.”

“Since when?”

“I’ll be fine. I have 3 layers of clothes and a blanket around me.” Clarke would lie if she said that the concern and care Lexa was showing, even after everything, made the pain in her chest feel lighter, easier to carry. 

“Tell me you are not laying on the snow.” Clarke didn’t mean to laugh, she really didn’t. But the tone of Lexa’s voice, the absurdity of the situation, the dancing around words unsaid and everything that had happened, made her giggle. “Clarke Griffin.” Then the giggle turned into full blown laughter. She couldn’t remember when was the last time she laughed like that. Or when was the last time she heard Lexa laugh like that. “I’m still waiting for you to tell me you are not laying on the snow.”

“I have a big wooden board between me and the snow.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you?”

“I can send you a photo proof.” Clarke blamed it on the fact that it was too easy to fall back into the things that worked so well for them, when talking with Lexa. It was too easy to forget and to just be. 

“I think it’s the only way to make me believe you.”

Clarke’s heart skipped a couple of beats.  _ I wanna see you too _ was what Clarke wanted to say, “Just a second,” she said instead. She opened the camera on her phone and switched to the front one. She saw just a bit of her hair, hidden inside the soft grey beanie and big black jacket, red scarf wrapped around her neck and her eyes sparkling like they hadn’t in a long time. She shook away the thought of snapping that photo. She could forget a lot of things but not that the time for those photos was long gone. She leaned the phone to the side, green blanket and a tiny bit of wood came into shot. She stretched her arms up, making sure half of her face was still in there and sent Lexa the photo. “There you go,” she said when the phone was back on her ear.

“That’s my blanket,” she heard Lexa say after a couple of seconds. 

“You probably forgot about its existence.”

“I have not. But you look cute so I’ll allow it.”  _ You look cute. _ Clarke closed her eyes, relieved and happy that Lexa wasn’t next to her to see the way she had to hold a hand over her heart to make sure it was still there. “But you also look like you are cold and your jacket is wet.”

“How could you see all that from one photo?”

Lexa chuckled. “‘I’m very observant.” Clarke heard sheets ruffling. Lexa had her on speaker. “Your eyes get really blue when you are cold.”

Clarke tried to not allow herself to think that the photo was the reason why she was on speaker. “That’s not a thing that happens,” she said.

“You don’t believe me?”

“There’s nothing to believe, it’s just not a thing that happens.”

“Clarke, I’m telling you.”

“Are you sure it’s not just the light?”  _ Are you sure it’s not the fact that you are talking to me. _

“I think I’ve seen your eyes enough times to know.”

“And what color are they when I’m hot?”

“Murder color.”

Another laughing fit. “I thought I hated the cold?”

“You love to say you hate the cold, but I think you secretly hate that you love it so much. So you’ve made up all the reasons why it sucks when in fact I know you have more pros than cons. Or at least you had.”

“Like what?” Clarke didn’t want Lexa to stop talking, she wanted to spend hours, whole night and morning, just listening to Lexa talk.

“Cuddling,” Lexa said.

“That’s one.”

“Wearing warm clothes.”

“That’s two.” Clarke’s smile grew bigger with every word Lexa said.

“Fires and blankets and hot chocolate and coats and scarfs and snow and being in bed when it’s really windy outside and walking around really late at night after that first snow had just fallen and you just can’t help yourself but to go out and build a snowman.” The air might had been cold and the snow might had been falling but there wasn’t a part of Clarke’s body that wasn’t feeling warm and unbothered by the coldness surrounding her. “Stuff like that.”

“That’s more winter stuff than being cold stuff.”

“Winter is when you are cold.”

“You are ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Lexa said. “Now get up and go to your room.”

“But it’s my birthday, I should be doing what I want.”

“Please.” 

Clarke never dreamed that one word was going to be able to break her like one simple please from Lexa. “Okay.”

“And leave the bottle in the kitchen.”

“Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.” Clarke did as Lexa asked. She got up, picked up the blanket and the bottle, turned off the light and went inside. She locked the door, left the bottle on the kitchen counter and went upstairs, careful to not wake her parents. She closed the door of her bedroom, took off her jacket, scarf, beanie and shoes. “Are you still there?,” she asked.

“Always.”

“Give me a second to change into something warmer.” It was a habit she thought she lost a long time ago, but apparently it was still there, just waiting to pop back up to the surface. She sighed without waiting to hear if Lexa was going to say something, put the phone on the bed, changed into old Polis university sweater she found in the closet and climbed on the bed and under the covers. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi.” 

“What time is it?”

“Two.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry for keeping you up this late.”

“It’s fine really,” Lexa chuckled.

“I know you love your beauty sleep.”

“I can make an exception for one day of the year.”

“Thank you.”

“For making an exception.”

“For calling,” Clarke said. “You took my mind off of other stuff.”

“I can do the same thing tomorrow. If you want. Or need,” Lexa said. “It’s been a while but I’m still me and you are still you.”

“Thank you.”  _ I don’t deserve that. _

“Think of it as my birthday present. I’m two years behind so I can call for two nights in a row. Make up for not sending those gifts.”

“Sending?”

“That’s a story for another time,” Lexa said. “We should go to sleep now.”

“We should.”

“Happy birthday Clarke.”

“Good night Lexa.”

Clarke thought she was gonna spend the night filled with regret and thoughts she deemed long gone and far from relevant. But then Lexa showed up, out of nowhere, much like the first time they met. 

She swooped in and saved the night and day. Again.

Clarke fell asleep with the new found lightness filling her heart. Maybe the year in front of her wasn’t going to be as bad as she thought. 

Or maybe she forgot that hope is the most dangerous thing in the world.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while so it's a bit rough. Be gentle.

It was very last minute. 

That was what Anya told her. Repeatedly. 

She also said it wasn’t really a plan until it was and the plan was very last minute. She apologized three more times before Clarke smiled. 

It was the weekend after her birthday and a day before she was supposed to go back to the real world. Clarke woke up to an empty house. Empty house on Saturday morning was never a surprise considering the fact that on most Saturdays it was empty. Her parents woke up early to make up for what was lost during the week. Breakfast then coffee while reading the news and then leave the house while the rest of the world was still sleeping. She never asked them where or what, but it was comforting to know that even after so many years together they loved the quiet time they got to spend with one another more than almost anything else in the world. 

Other than quiet, morning was also cold and blue, with just enough sun to make it perfect and not too cold. Clarke made coffee, drank some and put the rest, and most, of it in her bag, along with her sketchbook. She got out of the house and went for a walk of her own with no real destination or purpose in mind. She hoped it was going to be sunny enough for her to spend a bit of her time at the lake. 

It was a short walk,  _ Thirty minutes is not a short walk Clarke, _ she heard Lexa’s voice in her head and smiled. One distant morning, not much different and not at all like the one she was having, popped up from Clarke’s memory. A not so special morning and one of the many similar ones. 

It was cold and sunny and blue, she had coffee in her bag and sketchbook in her hand, and she had Lexa next to her. 

_ “It’s so cold.” Lexa was never the whining type, but early morning, half asleep and cold mornings used to bring out endless complaints. Clarke always thought almost all of it was just a play pretend, short performance to make Clarke’s equally grumpy mornings brighter. Whiny Lexa was something no one except Clarke got to see. “You realize the only reason I’m going with you is because of those chocolate croissants.” She wrapped her fingers around Clarke’s arm and pulled her closer into her side.  _

_ “I thought you liked cold.” _

_ “I do. But there’s better stuff we could have been doing right now.” _

_ “Like what?” _

_ “Like sleeping.” _

_ “Seize the day.” _

_ “I prefer sleep the day.” _

_ Clarke chuckled. “No, you don’t.” _

_ “You don’t know what I prefer.” _

_ “Think of croissants.” _

_ “Hmm yes, or about the fact that not only you dragged me out of bed but I will also be the one that will have to feed both you and me.” _

_ “Now you are just being an ass.” Clarke yanked Lexa’s hand from her arm and took a step to the side, putting more space between them than she would have liked, but it was a stupid game and Clarke liked to play it. _

_ “Me?,” Lexa feigned surprise.”Never.” _

_ “I won’t give you coffee,” Clarke said. _

_ “I’ll buy it then.” _

_ “It’s not as good as mine.” _

_ “It will make do.”  _

_ “Then you won’t mind if I turn around and go home,” Clarke said with no intention of stopping or turning or doing anything but looking at Lexa. She could see the smile on her face even though Lexa’s eyes were set straight ahead.  _

_ “Sure, if that’s what you want, even though we both know that’s not true. You want to drink your coffee and eat my croissants and draw our lake.” Clarke felt Lexa’s fingers on her arm again. She pulled her gently closer to her. “It’s too early for you, we both know you can’t think straight.” _

_ “You are still an ass.” _

_ “Yes. But you like it.” _

Thirty minutes passed too fast and Clarke found herself in front of the bakery sooner than she hoped or wanted. The skin biting cold air was a welcomed contrast to memories running through her head. She wanted to walk past it without looking and entering or thinking, but her brain made her legs stop and her eyes look inside. It was open and empty, girl she didn’t recognize was behind the counter and Clarke walked in without thinking. It still smelled the same as all those years back. It was a not welcomed but unexpectedly feel good memory. She took two chocolate croissants and walked out before it turned into a nightmarish one. 

It was another few minutes to the lake. Sun was high up and warm on her cheeks. She smiled because it was cold but warm enough to be outside, even if alone. 

Clarke got there with the intention of drawing what her eyes saw but she ended up drawing what her eyes wanted to see. Sunglasses, curly hair, coffee cups and shadows of a smile. 

It took two hours of heartache and smiling before the sun lost its kindness and Clarke got cold. She took her things and went home, oblivious to the plan that wasn’t and then was. 

“I swear it was last minute.” Everyone was already at her house when Clarke got there. Her parents, Raven, Octavia, Anya, Niylah and Lexa, hidden in a corner talking with Jake. “And it wasn’t my idea,” Anya held her hands in air as a promise that her words are true and it wasn’t in fact her idea. 

“Then why are you the only one apologizing.” When Clarke walked into the house she stopped in her tracks after seeing her parents and friends in front of her. She was greeted with the usual ‘Surprise, happy birthday!’. She got a kiss and I love you from Niylah, a hug from Anya and a peck on the cheek from Raven and Octavia. She got a smile from Lexa. One more than she thought she was going to get when she woke up that day. Lexa did call on the actual day, just like she promised. She wasn’t as bubbly as the night before, but she called. There was something about the night that brought out stuff we’d probably never do or think with the sunshine in our eyes. 

“Because I don’t know if you are okay with it.” Clarke was only half listening to almost apologies from Anya. Instead she looked around the room. Niylah was with Abby, doing something somewhere, Raven and Octavia were in front of the TV waiting for lunch, and Lexa was laughing with Jake. 

“Maybe the time for thinking that was before you all came and ambushed me.” Clarke tried her best to not look at Lexa. She knew there was no good ever in looking. But she couldn’t take her eyes off her. She couldn’t not hear the voice and words even though she was so far away to hear what the words were. 

“We didn’t think you would mind,” Anya said. “Do you? We can leave if-”

“Relax Anya,” Clarke looked at the friend in front of her instead of the one miles away. “I don’t mind,” she smiled. “It is really great to see you all.”

“She suggested it,” Anya said when she saw Clarke looking in Lexa’s direction. “Thought it would be nice of us since you spent the actual day alone. I mean not alone but... you know.”

“I’m glad you are here,” Clarke said hoping that would put a stop to Anya’s rambling. 

“Good,” Anya smiled. “I’m gonna go somewhere where I won’t have to talk, and you can go over there where you really want to be.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Clarke said out of habit.

“Go say thank you.” Anya pushed her in the general direction of the person who was supposed to get the thank you before she left to join Raven and Octavia. 

Clarke took a deep breath and crossed the roughest and hardest couple of steps of the day, week, month and year. “Hi,” she said and got a smile from Lexa and a back squeeze from Jake.

“I’m gonna go see if your mom needs help,” he disappeared before Clarke could protest. He left her alone with Lexa. A thought she never knew would bring her so much anxiety. Fear mostly. With sprinkles of hope.

“Happy birthday Clarke,” soft voice and a big bright smile.

“That’s the seventh time you’ve said it.”

“But who’s counting, right?” Lexa’s smile was still as big and bright.

“Right,” Clarke chuckled.  _ I am counting every word you say to me and storing it in the safest parts of my heart so no one ever finds it or takes it away from me. _

“I must mean it then, if I’ve said it so many times.”

“Maybe,” Clarke said. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome,” Lexa said. “They were skeptical, but I persuaded them.”

“You weren’t?”

“What?”

“Skeptical.”

“Why would I be?”

“Everyone else is.”

“Everyone else is not me.” Clarke felt every word crave a tiny patch on her heart over something that she thought was better left behind and forgotten. “I’d like to think so, at least.” Clarke’s heart was beating so fast she was sure Lexa could see it on her neck. “Still.”

“Thank you,” Clarke said when she realized it was her turn to speak.

“You keep thanking me and I’m not sure I know why.”

“Sorry.” Clarke shuffled her feet before she saw Niylah on the other side of the room. She took a step back as if she was standing too close or doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

“Relax Clarke,” Lexa’s words were still soft, a gentle reminder of what was and what is now. “We are all here because we care about you,” she said. “Now go spend some time with the one you like the most,” she waved Niylah to come over. “I’ll be around.” Lexa left before Clarke got the chance to say the wrong thing.

“Hi,” Niylah looked more careful than she should had been. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Lexa went to sit with Anya and Octavia and Clarke had to shake off the bad and ugly thoughts that started to creep up to her. “Sorry,” she focused on Niylah. On her smile, her eyes and her warmth. “What are you apologizing for?”

“For being an idiot.”

“No, if anyone should apologize it’s me. You’re perfect.”

“I’ve missed you.” Niylah’s finger went up and down Clarke’s forearm, good enough distraction. A thought and feeling Clarke hated as soon as it appeared.

“I’m glad you are here.” A generic reply. The most Clarke could do in that moment. 

“So am I babe. I should have been here with you,” Niylah said. “It was a relief when Lexa called. A good excuse,” she smiled.

“Excuse?”

“If it turned out to be a bad surprise, I wasn’t going to be the guilty party. Just a blind follower.”

“I like leaders,” Clarke said without thinking. Her heart started beating again when Niylah laughed.

“No babe, you like to lead leaders.”

* * *

The day got stranger after that. Strange good and strange bad. Clarke didn’t know it was possible to feel so happy and miserable at the same time and to that extent. Lunch was spent with Lexa’s stories and wine, and afternoon was spent trying to avoid one of those while having too much of the other.

“Have you thought about slowing down?” Abby asked her later that day. Clarke was sitting on the floor, her back leaned to wall next to the fireplace. She had an almost empty glass of wine in her hand. Abby sat down next to her. “If you keep going you’ll empty all of our stock.”

“Like that’s possible.” Clarke was looking at her friends talk. She didn’t listen or participate. She just stared at them and tried not to think of past or present or future.

“Why don’t you join them?” Abby said when she noticed where Clarke’s attention was.

“I’m kinda drunk.”

“So?”

“I don’t trust myself.”

“Around your friends?” Clarke stayed quiet and Abby knew why. “She has a lot of stories. And it sounds like she’s doing great for herself.”

“Was there ever any doubt.”

“You should go be with them honey, they are here for you.”

“In a bit.”

“And don’t look so sad, it’s a good thing. Not every end is a new start and you are getting a chance to make yours be one.”

“I don’t remember you being this wise.”

“It’s because you used to spend a lot more time listening to someone else.” Abby kissed the side of her head and got up. “Don’t spend the rest of the night alone.”

Clarke nodded and smiled, she knew it was what Abby needed, for the peace of her mind, but when she caught Lexa smiling at her, Clarke knew she had to spend it alone. 

She spent another hour on the floor, closer to her friends, laughing more as she got more drunk. 

“I’m gonna go get some fresh air.” She whispered to Anya who was sitting next to her and then tried to get up with the glass still in her hand. She felt warm fingers around her wrist and without even looking she knew who they belonged to.

“Maybe without that,” Lexa said taking the glass away from her. She picked up Anya’s coat laying on sofa and wrapped it around Clarke, “It’s cold,” Lexa said.

“Do you want me to go with you?,” Niylah asked.

Clarke shook her head. “No, just a few minutes,” she smiled. 

Clarke realized how drunk she was only when the world started spinning. She was sitting on the porch and trying to focus on the white fence she couldn’t see in the dark but knew was twenty six steps in front of her. She knew because she lost a bet many years ago.  _ I know exactly how many steps there is between our houses Clarke. _ That was another bet she lost. One that made her heart beat ten times faster. 

“It’s been quite a few minutes.” 

Lexa was standing next to her. “I was just thinking about you.”

“You were?”

Lexa walked around her and sat next to her. “Yes.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Steps.”

“Steps?”

“Yes. Steps you had to take to get to me,” Clarke leaned her head to the side and smiled when she saw Lexa looking at her. “I know you remember.”

“I remember how bad you were at crossing the distance between us,” Lexa said. “You always made sure I was the one to do it. That’s why you lost all those bets.”

“I liked the idea.”   
“Of what?”

“You coming to me.”

“Why?”

“Because you always made everyone else came to you,” Clarke blinked once and then smiled. “But not me.”

“You never told me that before.” 

“I know.”

“Are you okay?” Lexa asked when Clarke closed her eyes.

“It’s easier to dream with eyes closed.”

“Clarke.”

“Why did you say that before?,” Clarke asked even though every bone in her drunk body was telling her not to. 

Lexa frowned. “Why did I say what?”

“The person I like the most.”

Lexa’s frown turned to a sigh. “Because she’s your girlfriend and I assume you like her.”

“Why did you say it like that?”

“Clarke, I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I miss my friend.”

“Clarke.”

“I know I shouldn’t say that, that I’m not allowed or whatever, that I can’t say it and that you don’t want to hear it. But you’ve been that person for years and you left-”

“No,” Lexa stopped her and Clarke knew she was going to be grateful when she wakes up the next morning. “You don’t want to do that now Clarke. Now or ever,” Lexa said. “You should go inside and sleep it out. And I should leave.”

Clarke shook her head. “You don’t have to leave. Everyone else is staying.”

“Everyone else is not me.” Just like she patched up the parts of her heart just a couple of hours ago, Lexa now ripped it open again and much worse than before.

“Lexa. Please stay.”

“No, Clarke, I’m not going to do that with you. Certainly not in front of your house with the people that love you inside.” Lexa got up and zipped up her jacket. 

“Are you really going to leave without asking me the thing you’ve been dying to ask?”

“You are drunk and I promised myself to never again deal with drunk you.”

“You keep saying these things and then those things and I can’t figure out which ones are truth.”

“Both,” Lexa said. “Good night Clarke. I hope you’ve had fun today.”

Lexa left and left Clarke sitting alone in a chair that held too many memories for drunk Clarke to deal with. 

“Are you okay?” Clarke saw Anya standing in front of door couple minutes after Lexa left, even though it seemed like eternity to her. Another eternity she spent without Lexa near her.

“I am.” Clarke wiped her cheek to make sure tears she knew weren’t there were hidden from everyone. 

“Lexa said to get you inside.”

“Lexa left. Again.”

“I know, but you have to go inside and probably to bed. Or first under a shower.”

“I wanna be left alone.”

“We can’t do that.”

“There’s no we.”

“Clarke, c’mon, don’t do that.”

“Just please leave me alone.”

“She’ll kill me if I don’t do what she said. Do you want me dead?”

“She doesn’t care.”

“That’s the farthest thing from truth you could’ve said,” Anya said. “C’mon, let’s go inside. We can watch TV and drink some more if you want. But I can’t leave you to sit here alone.”

“Where’s Niylah?”

“Went to bed, I think,” Anya said. “It’s just me inside.”

“She can’t see me like this. Niylah. She’s too good to me.”

“That’s because she loves you. Just like you love her.” Clarke got up, the floor under her spinning as well as the thought inside her head. She felt Anya’s hand on her arm, holding her on her feet. “You really went all in.”

“Had to.” Clarke closed her eyes.

“You can’t walk with your eyes closed, c’mon Clarke.”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this.” She leaned her head on Anya’s shoulder.

“You are not my first drunk girl, don’t worry. And I love you, so it’s no big deal.” Anya’s hand went around Clarke’s back and the other was on her wrist. After a couple of seconds Clarke felt warm and the light was hurting her eyes. 

“Can you turn it off, please.”

“Sure.” As soon as she asked the lights were turned off, the only one coming from the TV screen a couple of steps away. It was a struggle for both of them to get Clarke to the couch but once they did the world stopped spinning. Anya sat next to her and Clarke leaned her head, again, on a shoulder. “Do you think you could go upstairs?”

“Maybe later.”

“You should probably drink some water. Or a lot of it.”

“Maybe.”

“And you should let go of my arm now,” Anya chuckled.

“You are warm,” Clarke said, feeling herself slowly drift off. “Anya?”

“Yes?”

“Tell her she’s the one I like the most.”

**Author's Note:**

> like it, love it, hate it?
> 
> as always all mistakes belong to me
> 
> find me at ordinarklo.tumblr.com, i don't bite unless you want me to


End file.
